Mutual Loss
by Gandr
Summary: Dimitri comforts Byleth after harsh words tear open deep wounds in her heart.


"It's like you don't appreciate Captain Jeralt at all, or how lucky you were to have him around your whole life!"

This sudden outburst caught Byleth off guard, even though Leonie had lashed out previously. The conversation had taken a heel turn, from talking about her late Father to implying that, due to something she herself can't help, she doesn't deserve to have Jeralt as her father. The man who raised, protected and loved her, her only family whom she loved very, very much. Jeralt often said that he could read her emotions like a book, even when others were intimidated by her lack of ability to emote often or at all. He taught her to defend herself, taught her to read and write. Played with her, never complained when she could only fall asleep if she was curled up on his lap when she was little. Jeralt was a constant presence in her life, not only her father but her best friend as well.

She didn't appreciate him?

Didn't deserve to have him as her Father?

After a pause, Leonie looked like she was about to speak, but the ginger-haired woman was cut off when the back of Byleth's hand stuck against her cheek, leaving a harsh, red bruise on her face. For a moment, she contemplated retaliating, but she remembered the incident with Count Varley, and combined with the look in Byleth's eyes, she made a rare choice to stand down instead.

As the dark-haired woman hurried away, trying to hide the tears that began to roll down her cheeks, Leonie realized what emotion she saw in Byleth's eyes;

Sadness.

And in that moment, she felt lower than Wyvern dung.

\--

It had barely been a week, maybe a week and a half. A week and a half since she held her dying father in her arms, after failing to save him, after not even the power of a God could stop her beloved Father's murder.

"To think that the first time I saw you cry...your tears would be for me."

"Thank you...kid."

His last words kept replaying in her head, over and over. Not even burying her face into her now soaked pillow could drown it out. Why did he have to die? Who was that man, that girl? It made more sense to go after Byleth herself instead, didn't it? For once, Sothis was quiet, when someone to talk to would be more than welcomed.

A sudden knock at the door caused her to jolt, lifting her head, wiping her eyes dry as she sat up; a quick glance in the mirror showing that no matter how she would try to hide it, there was no mistaking the fact she had spent the time since the altercation with Leonie sobbing into her pillow.

Fuck it. She had every reason to cry.

"...Professor. I apologize for bothering you, I was concerned after hearing about your, uh, disagreement earlier." It was Dimitri, "Have you eaten anything at all? You still have to eat. If not for yourself, do it for us."

The woman said nothing as she stepped aside before uttering a quiet, "...Come in. Please."

He complied, pushing the thought of what Sylvain might say, seeing him entering a woman's room. There was more to worry about, particularly the severity of his Professor's loss. Losing your father was sadly something the Prince knew all too intimately, especially when you witness their death and can do nothing to stop it. He was snapped out of his thoughts when the small tray was taken from his hand, and he had to fight the flustered reaction to Byleth suddenly wrapping her arms around him, her face buried in his chest. Even though he was cautious as not to accidentally hurt her, he still returned the gesture, holding her close.

Her arms loosened around him, and he took this as a hint to release her form the embrace, and now he was able to get a good look at her and once he did, it felt like a punch to the stomach. Her dark hair matted to her wet cheeks, eyes red and puffy, it was obvious that woman's callous words had cut deeper than any blade and reopened wounds that had barely begun to heal, and why? Because Byleth doesn't emote as much as others and this means she doesn't deserve to have had Jeralt as a father? The very idea of this notion made the Boar Prince's blood boil. She felt the same emotions as everyone else, even if expressing them was hard for her.

"Professor, I want you to know that, well, I'm here for you," His expression turned melancholic though his smile remained, "Please, don't try to endure this alone. I, well, we, all care for you very much. If you'll excuse me, there's something I must attend to."

Dimitri turned to leave on that vague statement, but he was surprised to feel her clinging to him once more, looking down to see her arms around him, feeling her pressing against his back and feeling very grateful she was unable to see the flushing in his cheeks from the second bout of sudden affection.

"P-Professor?"

"...Stay with me. Please. For a little while." Her voice was quiet, as if speaking any louder would cause the tears to come once more. Dimitri stood, and with a soft sigh, he relented. What kind of gentleman, what kind of knight would turn his back on a beautiful woman's plea for company? Shutting the door softly, and with his cheeks still red, he found himself sitting on her bed, Byleth's head resting on his lap, facing away from him.

She was so quiet that couldn't tell if she was awake, or if she had fallen asleep from emotional exhaustion, and he failed to realize that he had been running his fingers through her hair. His thoughts bounced back and forth between Byleth's feelings, and his own experiences. He wondered if she would take the chance for revenge on Kronya for taking her father away from her, and something inside of him said that they were both quite similar, and that she would without hesitation.

This fact simultaneously made him happy, yet apprehensive if only for the thought that something would happen to her. Why though? She was strong, smart and capable. He's seen her take down enemies several times her size with skill rivaling his own, so there was no need to worry, right? But the same could be said for Jeralt, who was stabbed in the back in a moment of carelessness.

The same thing wouldn't happen to Byleth.

Not if he could help it.

In his mind, this was all he could do to honor the fallen Captain's memory, to support and protect his only living family.

As he gently, ever so gingerly lifted the sleeping Professor from his lap, resting her head on a dry pillow, he made his way out of the room while taking care as not to be seen by anyone, he sighed. To be told something as awful as that, it's a wonder she only got off with a slap. She was certainly more merciful than most, that much as for sure.

In any case, all he wanted was to see her smile again, and he would do anything to accomplish this.

Anything.


End file.
